(going off the) deep end
by Dark K. Sly
Summary: When trying to bring Cora back, Derek didn't really know what he was dealing with. Now, he has to pay a price for it, and Stiles can't seem to let him go.


Derek Hale comes back into Beacon Hills pretty much the same way he did the first time after leaving with his older sister: with a trail of murder and blood behind him, and every single person he came in contact with thinking he had done something wrong.

Stiles, of course, knows better than this, because he actually _knows_ Derek. The _pack_ knows Derek, and they know now that behind all of the _stay away_ attitude is actually a guy who's willing to do anything to protect those he loves or even just doesn't hate, even if the people he does love keep leaving him – as clearly seen in his silent look when asked where's Cora. _She left_ , he tells them, quiet and calm and composed – the only sign that he's not okay with it the slight way his neck twitches, as if he's fighting the urge to change.

They drop the subject, Scott thanks him for coming back to help them with the Kitsune, and then they are off fighting whatever crap they have to fight now.

It's not easy, really – not because a Kitsune is more dangerous than a Kanima, or a pack of Alphas, but because _they_ are damaged. Before, they had two packs – which, in all reality, was only one all along, after all – and a few damaged people in it. Truth is that the only _really_ broken one had always been Derek. But now?

Well, now things aren't quite like that. Stile is not over having panic attacks, visions and nightmares. Sometimes he can't tell if he's awake or sleeping. Sometimes he doesn't know what's real and what's only in his head. Scott is going through something too, and he doesn't really share with anyone, not even Allison when she tries, because he got into his head that he's their Alpha, and so he has to protect them, and he has started keeping things from them: it's pretty much like watching the birth of a Derek Hale 2.0, this time with an FBI agent for a father.

Allison is not well, either, but she and Isaac, somehow, have found a way to not let it burden them as much. They are working through it, which is way more than can be said for Scott or Stiles, and because of _that_ , not really because of the Kitsune itself, is that they have problems dealing with it.

They manage, somehow they _always_ manage, even when Deaton looks like he doesn't think they will, and the Kitsune problem is taken care of – not really the Kitsune herself, who is quite a cute and fun Asian girl, but the stupid wanna-be mage who was trying to control her, who is now in jail, thanks to Scott's dad, who isn't very sure what he's walked into, and Scott isn't opening up.

All in all, things aren't fine nor easy, but they are managing somehow. Derek is no longer an Alpha, and he seems content enough in letting Scott run the show, as long as the kid doesn't run it into the ground.

The Kitsune thing has been solved for about a week when Scott calls Stiles a Saturday night and tells him he has noticed another wolf in the area – an Omega, apparently. He asks that Stiles stays at home that night (and really, it's not like he has a whole lot of plans), and informs him he and Derek are taking care of it.

He doesn't think too much on it, actually, goes to bed at a reasonable hour – for a weekend anyway – spends Sunday trying to finish some homework and then Scott comes by, and they hang out for a while.

Monday and Tuesday are pretty much more of the same, until he notices that Derek hasn't showed up _at all_ since Saturday – Scott comments on it, frowning, because if there's _one_ of them who actually _gets_ what Pack means, it's Derek, and even though he's not the Alpha anymore, he still shows up, checking up on them, even on Allison, at least once a day.

When Wednesday comes and goes without a word from him, Scott calls him up, and Derek tells his Alpha he's fine, just worried about fixing up the loft.

That's all he says on the subject, and Scott may buy it, but Stiles doesn't.

Derek cares about his loft as much as he cares about the state of his furniture, and that is nothing at all. They _flooded_ his whole place and he didn't care. Now he's gone missing for four days because he's cleaning?

Stiles isn't buying it.

Thursday morning he gets up two hours earlier than usual, gets dressed and walks to Derek's loft. It's not exactly near, but his Jeep was totaled in the crash before with the whole Nemeton/Sacrifice thing, and he doesn't have the money (and, to be completely truthful, the will) to replace it.

It takes him almost half an hour to get to the place, and he sighs, knowing that, even if Derek's dying in there, he's going to snap at him and pretend he's angry and that he doesn't need anyone. It's what Derek _does_ , they all know it by now.

He knocks once and waits, knowing that Derek is probably asleep. He knocks again after a few minutes, and then calls the man, tapping his foot against the ground, and leaving his backpack on the floor.

It takes ten rings for Derek to answer, and he sounds like death.

"What?"

"Open the door, I'm outside."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to make me pancakes. I came to check on you, you idiot. Now open the door" he snaps and Derek hangs up.

He waits a few more moments, and is already taking off his phone to call the man again when the door opens, and he sees Derek.

He looks just as bad as he sounds.

"Dude, did you get shot with a wolfsbane bullet and didn't tell us?" he asks, his voice just a bit squeaky, but Derek rolls his eyes and steps aside, letting Stiles in.

The teen does so, still gaping at Derek – he's shirtless (of course he's shirtless, when isn't he, really?) and wearing some old sweatpants, and he's pale, incredibly pale, pretty much like he was the day Kate Argent shot him.

All of _that_ , however, isn't the most worrying thing: what's worrying is the four gashes on his side, which don't seem to be healing _at all_. If anything, the whole thing looks infected, and suddenly Stiles feels that his wolfsbane theory isn't all that far off.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asks, dropping his backpack on the floor and moving towards the man, who kind of hisses and backs away when Stiles reaches out a hand, as if to touch his injury.

"I got attacked."

"Oh, really, by what? A sentient wolfsbane bush?" he deadpans, staring at Derek, unimpressed. The man rolls his eyes at him, taking a deep breath when he turns around and his torso twists a bit, pulling on the skin, "Seriously, Derek, what the hell, man?"

"The Omega, Stiles. It attacked us."

"Yeah, but Scott healed in, like, ten minutes. He was fine when I saw him the next day."

"Scott is an Alpha" he tells Stiles very calmly, opening a cupboard in the kitchen and digging through it, his face contorting in pain from time to time.

"Yeah, and you're a Beta. Sure you wouldn't heal as fast, but, Derek, I _knew_ you as a Beta, and you healed from Peter digging both hands into your back." He's starting to get _really_ worried right now.

Derek doesn't answer him, just putting a First Aid kit on the kitchen counter and digging through it a bit, getting out some cotton balls and antiseptic.

Stiles sighs, irritated, and moves to him, getting the cotton from his hands and soaking it in the liquid, staring at Derek until the man rolls his eyes but moves, exposing his injured side to the teen.

"You know, you have a Pack. I know we're not, like, golden or anything, but we care. You should have told us you were having trouble healing. Scott could have helped you—"

"He couldn't" Derek interrupts him, not even wincing when Stiles cleans his wounds the best he can – which isn't much, seeing as he _hates_ blood, but Derek clearly can't reach at least two of his own wounds, so he's trying to suck it up.

"Deaton, then."

"Deaton can't help me. No one can."

"Oh my _God_ " Stiles starts, exasperated, getting another cotton ball, and staring on the next gash, "Would you stop being such a martyr? It's not like it's the end of the world, we'll find something to help you heal faster, you just have to _tell us_ , Derek, we actually -"

"I'm dying."

Derek's voice is soft and calm, as if he's informing Stiles the time.

Stiles digs the cotton ball with a little more force than he intended, and Derek hisses in pain, looking down at him with a glare.

Stiles takes a step back and stares at him.

"What did you just say?" he almost whispers, and Derek tries to shrug, looking down.

"I'm dying. When I saved Cora…"

"Which was _Peter_ 's idea" Stiles comments, looking about ready to kill someone.

"When I did it," Derek goes on, as if Stiles didn't say anything, "I thought I was just… turning into a Beta. We left because we needed the time, but also because she thought the people from the pack who took her in could help me. All they could do was tell me that I hadn't traded my Alpha status for her life – I had traded a _life for a life_. That's how it works. I'm not really a Beta, Stiles, I'm just… too weak to be an Alpha anymore. I'm dying."

The teen just stares at him for a long moment, taking in the gashes, and the way his face looks just… accepting.

It _infuriates_ him.

"And you're just… going to take it? _Is that it_? You're dying, and you are just going to… what, roll over?"

Derek sighs, apparently not caring how angry Stiles sounds.

"There's nothing _to_ do, Stiles. It is what it is."

Stiles takes in a deep breath, his whole body trembling in anger, he tries calming down, but he _can't_. He just shakes his head then, and turns his back on Derek, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Back in the apartment, Derek sighs, runs a hand over his eyes and tries to finish cleaning his wounds – it won't really do him any good in the long run, but he can pretend, right?

 **X**

He can't even see straight he's so mad.

Trying to calm down a bit, he keeps walking until he's back at his house, his dad's cruiser still in the driveway, and he gets in _fuming_ – twenty minutes power walking haven't been enough for the anger he's feeling.

His dad is in the kitchen and eyes him strangely when he slams the door shut behind him.

"Do I want to know?" the Sheriff asks, turning from the bacon he's illicitly frying on a frying pan.

"Derek's _dying_ " he tells him bluntly, his eyes _burning_ , and he doesn't even know _why_ – it's not like he's best friends with the guy, he can't figure out _why_ he's _this mad_.

"Come again?"

"He's freaking _dying_! When the Alphas were in town, they took a shot at Cora, you remember, when she fainted here?" His dad nods, showing him that yes, he remembers the day Stiles told him his mom would believe him and made him feel like the crappiest dad in the whole world, "Well, for Derek to cure her, Peter talked him into giving up his Alpha status. Except Peter didn't _tell him the truth_ , because he's a freaking ZOMBIE, who keeps _ruining our lives_."

He _knows_ he's almost shouting by the end of it, but he can't care right now. He keeps pacing the kitchen as his dad eyes him warily.

"It was basically… magic going on. Magic is always, _always_ about balance. If Derek wasn't so _stupidly ready_ to sacrifice himself so quickly, he'd REALIZE that, but NO, he had to rush in, and follow the undead uncle's advice, and well, Cora was _dying_. To save her he gave up his own life. He's dying."

He stops then, tired and angry and mad and… he doesn't even know.

The teen runs a hand over his face, breathing deeply, fighting off the fear and the panic for a few moments.

"He can't heal. He's bleeding out of wounds he's gotten five days ago, and they look infected, and… he's going to die, and I'm going to have to watch it again." His voice breaks by the end of the sentence and he looks down, not meaning to cry, really, but it's… too much, "I'm going to watch him wither and die, and" he stops then, not able to go on, he can't.

His dad's arms envelop him for a moment, and Stiles leans into it, not really knowing what to do. He can't take this. He can't take one more person he cares about die slowly in front of him, and he knows, he just _knows_ , he can't leave Derek alone. Not now.

Not when _his sister_ , who _knows_ he's dying for her, isn't here.

He takes a step back and looks around, lost all of a sudden.

"Isn't there… I mean, it sounds pretty final, but isn't there anything you can do? Maybe Alan can help you guys, have you talked to Scott yet?" his dad sounds like he wants to take Stiles's pain away and take it upon himself.

"I… I went there to check up on him this morning, and he told me. I think I left my backpack there, by the way. It's weird. Why would he tell _me_ of all people?"

"You have his trust" his dad tells him with a small shrug, "I don't know the kid all that well, but I think he trusts you more than he does Scott, or anyone else right now, really. With all the… shenanigans you all went through the Fox girl—"

"—Kitsune, dad. It's called a Kitsune."

"—he did check up on you before anyone else. He was always around. Maybe he feels…" the Sheriff stops talking then, and Stiles stares at him, intrigued.

"Feels what?" he prods, frowning and _knowing_ he won't like whatever it is he's going to hear.

"Maybe he feels you'll get what he's going through. Because of… Because of Claudia."

Stiles doesn't even move after hearing that, he just takes in a shuddering breath and lets out a small, dark chuckle.

"He _would_ think that, wouldn't he?" he mutters, shaking his head and looking down, then, thinking it over.

He couldn't save his mother back then.

He was eight and all alone, and the monitor thing kept beeping slower and slower and then it flattened out, and he screamed so loudly all the hospital must have heard him, and a nurse rushed in, and he was taken away from there, screaming for his dad and his mom, and he was _all alone_.

And he watched his mom die.

He swallows hard at the thought and raises his eyes to his dad.

"Yeah, well, that's not happening again" he tells him, turning around and going to the door.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers his dad calling for him and asking about school, but he doesn't care.

No one else is dying as he stands by and watches.

 _No one else_.

 **X**

He's running before he even realizes where he's going, but, truth be told, if he's going to find a solution for this, Deaton is his best bet.

There's a woman with a poodle at the counter when he gets there, and Deaton just stares at him, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of him – out of breath, and, he's sure, a bit messed up, because he's been running all over town for _two hours_ now. He doesn't register what they are talking about, but soon she leaves, and Stiles finds out he doesn't know what to say.

"Is there something the matter, Stiles? Is Scott okay?" the vet asks, and Stiles shakes his head, trying to get the words out, having a whole lot of trouble finding them, "Stiles?" he asks again, coming closer and crossing the mountain ash little door.

"Derek's dying."

Alan stops and stares for a moment before taking a deep breath and gesturing for Stiles to follow him. They get to the back room, and Deaton guides him to a chair, sitting opposite him.

"What do you mean?"

"Cora. When he saved Cora, he gave up his life for hers. He thought he was trading his Alpha power, but…"

"But to save a life you must take a life" the man finishes for him and Stiles nods.

"Is there anything? Anything _at all_ that we can do?"

Deaton doesn't answer him right away and he has a look on his face as if he _knows_ of something but doesn't think it's a good idea.

"What is it?"

"Stiles, this is not a good idea."

The teen laughs bitterly and slouches in his chair, looking angry and just so _done_ with everything.

"You know what's not a good idea? Letting someone _I care about_ die slowly. It wasn't a good idea to call Scott and tell him to look for a body in the woods with me, it wasn't a good idea not to run away screaming when I found out he was a werewolf. There are whole lot of things in my life right now that aren't a good idea, but if there's even the smallest chance that I can save him, then I'm going to do it. _What-is-it_?"

Deaton sighs then, runs a hand over his face, shaking his head.

"We should call Scott and tell him—"

"We're not calling anyone unless this actually requires their presence. Is there anything Scott can do? Because Derek told me he couldn't."

"He is right. Scott can't help him heal, because Scott is not his Alpha. If the ritual went the way it's supposed to, Cora would have drained all of Derek's power, but she didn't – he has enough left to survive for a while, but he's still an Alpha. Weak, but an Alpha. Scott can't be his pack like this."

"Well, then we're not calling Scott."

"I was under the impression that _you_ , however, were a part of Scott's pack."

"I'm his best friend. Scott is my brother, but if he doesn't need to get involved in this, then he won't be."

"Are you willing to let that go?" the vet asks, leaning forward a bit, and Stiles eyes him strangely.

"What do you mean? Let what go?"

"Scott and his pack. Are you ready to not be a part of it anymore?"

"What are you getting at?" His voice is a bit scared now, because whoa, that is _not_ what he's expecting to hear.

"You see, Stiles, Derek made a sacrifice trying to save his sister. I am quite sure Peter Hale had some sort of plan in mind when he convinced him to do what he did, but we all know that even if he had been completely honest with Derek, he would have done it anyway. He would have accepted dying to save his sister, and that is _his_ sacrifice to make. For his life to be saved, his Alpha status to come back to him, another sacrifice will have to be made."

"You mean, like, killing someone? Whoa there, Doc, I'm a delinquent, but I'm not a killer."

"Sacrifices don't always have to be about a life being taken away, but they have to be something to do with losing a part of you. The day you offered yourself as a sacrifice to save your father – a part of you was taken away, forever tied with the Nemeton. You knew the risks, you, better than Scott or Allison, I believe, actually _understood_ what it would take, and yet you chose to do it. To save Derek, you'll have to do something similar."

"What do I have to do?"

Deaton stops talking, as if he's trying to gather his thoughts before continuing.

"I won't lie to you, Stiles, I had plans for you. Your spark is strong, and, one day, hopefully when you were a full grown man, I would have asked you to step up to a position you so often take, even if you're too young. I would have asked you to take the mantle of Emissary of the Beacon Hills Pack, under Scott as an Alpha. I always thought you could be with him, do good for his pack. When Derek left, it only solidified my belief that we were doing the right choices right then, but as he's back…"

"Get on with it, Doc" he tells the man, impatient and nervous, because he can already see where this is going, and he's not enjoying it.

"As Derek is back, he, too, is an Alpha of Beacon Hills. He has a right to this territory, perhaps more than Scott does. And yes, it is quite possible for you to save him, if you're strong enough – which is a promise I'm not making."

"I feel a catch coming."

"You would have to go back to the heart of the Nemeton and tie yourself to his power, Stiles. Tie your spark to Derek's Alpha status, and bring him back from where it's being consumed."

"So… what? I'll go even crazier than I am now?" he asks with a small laugh at the end, because it's no secret he hasn't been dealing well with the whole vision thing.

Deaton shakes his head negatively.

"No. It is even likely that you'll get better from it, as you, too, will have an Anchor. But, Stiles, your power as a Spark, as an Emissary, will be tied to _Derek_. To his pack."

Stiles pauses then, taking it all in.

Oh, fuck.

"You won't be able to be Scott's pack anymore. And, of course, you can still be friends, but that will be limited, because Derek will be your Alpha in a way that Scott isn't – Derek has an old bloodline behind him, and he has no one else. You will be his one and only pack member, and he will see Scott as a threat more often than not. It's not just about saving Derek's life right now, it's about what you are about to commit _your own_ life to."

"But I can save him" he mutters, and Deaton actually gets up from his chair and kneels in front of Stiles, staring straight into his eyes, his gaze serious and somewhat worried.

"Yes, you can save him. But you will be giving up _your pack_ for it. No one would blame you for not doing this. Not even Derek."

He nods then, getting up, feeling lost.

"Thanks, Doc."

Alan smiles at him, a bit sadly, and goes back to his clients.

Stiles leaves, not really knowing what to do.

This sucks.

 **X**

The Camaro is parked in front of the clinic when he comes out and he stares at it, not really knowing how to react to that.

"Just come in" Derek tells him, opening the window, and Stiles does, because he's feeling so completely _empty_ right now.

"I thought you'd have gone to Scott, so I called him, and he told me you hadn't showed up for school. He called your dad and he told him you had gone out, so I thought…" he shrugs, trailing off, because it makes sense – if you want answers, you come to Deaton. He isn't always helpful, but he points out the way.

Most of the time.

Derek drives them back to the loft and gets out of the car without really talking. Stiles follows him, not really knowing what else to do.

Inside, the place is the same – the whole in the wall, the Spartan furniture, everything.

Derek takes off his shirt and throws it on the couch.

"It itches with the cuts" he explains when Stiles just stares at him, and the teen doesn't answer, just watching the werewolf for a moment.

"I can do it, you know" he tells the man, and Derek sits on a stool, leaning on his elbows on the kitchen counter, calm and almost fucking _serene_.

"I know" he pauses, looks up at Stiles almost apologetically, "I knew even before you came by."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he's not proud about the way his voice almost breaks right then, but he can't help it.

Derek sighs, obviously tired, and shakes his head, picking at something imaginary on the counter.

"It's not really a choice, Stiles. I'd never ask you to do that for anyone. Scott wouldn't even ask you to do that _for him_. I don't… I don't mind" he finishes, shrugging again, and Stiles can't even start to comprehend what he's hearing.

"You don't mind? You don't mind _dying_?" his voice gets louder at the last bit, but Derek doesn't take the bait, just shakes his head again.

"I saw my sister alive again. I never thought I'd see that. And she's fine. She's healed, and she's happy."

"She's happy knowing you're going to _die_?" he questions, and Derek frowns then, his whole face closing off.

"No, she's not. But she will be. That's why I came back, not only to help you guys out while I could, but because it'll be easier for her."

"So you're okay with dying?"

"Everybody dies" he tells the teen with a slight smirk, and Stiles feels like punching him – he would too, if he didn't know it would hurt him more than Derek.

"Not like this."

Derek's answer is another shrug, and Stiles keeps staring, not really understanding him. Even when things are at their _worst_ he can't even begin to think about giving up like this.

How could he?

His dad would be devastated, and Scott would probably blame himself. Even Allison would miss him – and Lydia too. Lydia would think him weak for giving up, would talk him out of it so _fast_.

The people in his life wouldn't let him give up – and that's kind of what comes down to, isn't it? Who _does_ Derek have?

The pack with the Alpha Derek tried to bond with but kept being rejected at every turn? The Beta he turned and who blames him for everything, even the things that aren't his fault? The uncle who set him up for dying and killed his sister? The sister who he seems to think will be okay with him dying?

Who does Derek Hale have, after all?

"Why did you tell _me_?"

Another shrug.

"It just… came out. I don't know, Stiles, I wasn't planning on telling you, but now at least someone knows what's going on. When…" he clears his throat, looking down, "When it happens, there'll be someone who'll explain it to them. None of the others would get it. Scott would think it's all his fault, and Isaac would probably think I'm trying to guilt trip him and Allison would probably have a party" he finishes with a small sardonic smile, "You get it."

And he does.

He does get that Derek isn't ready to die, that he doesn't _want_ to die – he just feels that he has no right to _ask_ to be kept alive.

"I have to go" he tells the man, who doesn't look up, just keeps on staring at the kitchen counter. Stiles grabs his backpack as he's going by the couch, where Derek must have put it. He looks back, and Derek is still staring determinedly at the counter.

He grabs Derek's shirt too, and gets out of the loft more certain about this than he's even been about anything in his entire life.

He'll give Derek someone to count on.

Stiles takes out his phone as soon as he knows Derek can't hear him anymore even if he's trying.

The person answers with a hiss on the third ring.

"I need your help."

He'll never hear the end of this.

 **X**

Deaton doesn't even look surprised when he shows up back at the clinic.

"Somehow I knew you'd choose this."

"What can I say? I like alive people" he answers with a twisted smile.

The vet shakes his head at him, but does go to the back room, Stiles following behind him.

"We'll need something to guide you to Derek while you're under."

Stiles pulls the shirt out of the backpack and waves it.

"I have his blood."

Deaton nods.

"We'll also need someone to pull you back."

"Lydia's on her way."

He starts taking off his shirt, shoes and socks, knowing he'll be soaking wet and freezing in a matter of minutes, so, why make things difficult, right?

"Stiles" Deaton's voice is soft, and the teen looks at him sideways, "You know there's no turning back after this. You'll be turning your back on Scott's pack, becoming a part of Derek for as long as one of you is still alive. There's no room for regrets later."

He swallows hard, his mouth a bit dry, and he looks down, taking a deep breath.

"My only regret would be letting him die when I can stop it."

Deaton doesn't have a chance to answer, because Lydia comes in right then, staring at Stiles, the huge tub filled again with water and ice, and she shakes her head, looking angry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I need you to bring me back."

"Because you had such a blast last time you _died_?" she asks sarcastically, but does move closer, peering into the tub and the shirt in Stiles's hand.

"I need to do this to help Derek."

She looks at him for a moment, not saying anything at all. Silently he pleads with his eyes for her not to ask, just… help him.

He knows it's a lot to ask, but anyone else will just mess this up even more.

"You better come back, Stiles. I mean it. If you die, I'm bringing you back, Peter style, and then I'm killing you all over again."

She comes closer and he smiles weakly at her, looking at Deaton who nods.

Carefully, he steps into the tub, lies down, already trembling from the cold, takes a last deep breath, clutching Derek's t-shirt in his hands, closes his eyes, and goes under.

He sure hopes this works.

Their pack doesn't need two deaths in the same day.

 **X**

He's actually trying to focus on whatever crap is on TV during the day when he feels it – a sharp tug in his heart that makes it beat faster, wrong in some way, as if it's trying to stop and accelerate all at once.

He sits up, trying desperately not to panic – for all that he doesn't want anyone to sacrifice themselves to save him, he doesn't want to _die_. The cuts on his side seem to be burning more right now – he knows they are infected, and it feels as if someone has just poured alcohol on them. Hissing in pain, he gets up, trying to find his phone – he's not sure who he'd call, though, since this is it.

He's dying, and there's nothing else to do, is there?

This is the end.

His chest constricts again, pain and fire and something… something new, except it isn't _new_ , it's like he's getting something _back_ , and this something isn't being _put_ back, but shoved in, desperately and urgently.

His head suddenly feels as if it'll explode, and he can feel his eyes burning and shining the bright blue of the killers, his injuries like flames on his side. He turns to the only mirror in the whole place, watching in some fear and awe as his cuts are _closing up_ , as if sewed form the inside, his blue eyes going back to green, and then blue and then…

…and then they are red.

He howls in pain, a roar escaping his throat without meaning to and he falls down, darkness welcomed after all the pain.

If this is dying, it certainly sucks.

 **X**

At Deaton's, Lydia suddenly feels Stiles struggling to get up, and she pulls him back as much as she can, her friend gasping as he comes out of the water.

He stares at her and then at Deaton, getting out of the tub, trembling in cold.

"It worked."


End file.
